O Oriens - The Rising Sun

The 'O Antiphons' are sung according to tradition, during the evening liturgy on the last days of Advent. Each one is a named attribute of The Christ, to whose coming the church looks forward with eager and in these latter days, heightened expectation

O Oriens

Sung by the Dominican student brothers of Blackfriars, Oxford

It is perhaps no co-incidence that we celebrate O Oriens, O Rising Sun on this day, the 21st of December - Solstice wherever we are - the day the sun stands still. Whether as here in the Southern hemisphere it stands as high in the sky as it will all year, or as in the Northern its height at midday marks the turn towards longer days, the sun's appearing is significant

One of the features of living nearer to the equator as I now do, is the relatively short length of both dawn and dusk. It is not long light here before sunrise and not long after sunset that darkness covers the earth. I know from short experience and wider reading that at or reasonably near the equator this experience is far sharper, the sun plunging close to vertically unto the Horizon and rising perpendicularly with dramatic effect, like the brightest light being switched on in the depths of darkness. And it is this Suddenness of the appearing that is hinted at in the other familiar name for this Antiphon, O Dayspring, remembering the words of Isaiah 

The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined. 

Listening this morning to some Advent reflections by the Fransican Priest, Richard Rohr, I was reminded of a word that seems to have slipped from popular Christian discourse. Perhaps it never was that popular but I am sure it once was more commonly used than in these days. Rohr was talking about how the increasingly and now staggeringly affluent church in the West had got Scripture back to front. We went to the Scriptures he said, for comfort. But that was the last thing we find there - not that it isn';t to be found,. but it is discovered last - the comfort is for those who are first Challenged by the Word, then (and here is the 'old-fashioned' word . . .) Converted by the Word. Those whose only hope is now in Him may find True comfort their, and only they.

Conversion is a word which we use less and less the more and more comfortable we become - we now talk much more readily about faith in terms we might employ of a holiday, or a retirement cruise - it ha become 'a journey of faith' and a very gradualist one at that. If we hear the word Conversion at all it is invariably prefaced by such words as 'Sudden!' or 'Dramatic!'. It is not Usual, or Normal.

Of course the church in the West situated as it is away from the equator is not a place of 'sudden light' and also it is a place where we tend to have insulated ourselves against the reality of the world. Central heating and Air conditioning mean we are never Hot or Cold, Electric light means we little heed the rising sun, or its setting - conditions are neither one thing nor the other. So comfortable are we with the lights we have made for ourselves, we may say that we are not at all far from the Kingdom of God and forget that those are words which we cannot say, for we cannot See - for in reality it is dark, very dark.

In Advent we await the coming of a Saviour, not a therapist

If we will for a moment cease from our remorseless talk, in the Silence we may hear voices from behind a large stone which up until that point we had not regarded. 

We may perhaps extinguish the lights we have made for ourselves to discover how dark things are. After a while it becomes obvious that our eyes will not adapt to this Pitch darkness. 

The voices behind the stone become louder, there is the sound of astonishment.

A voice of command

The Stone begins to move

A Light brighter than the Sun at noonday pours blindingly into our 'place of comfort', 

which is revealed for what it is . . .

A voice is heard, like the sound of many waters

Lazarus, Come Out!

Christ, whose glory fills the skies,
Christ, the true, the only light,
Sun of Righteousness, arise,
Triumph o'er the shades of night;
Dayspring from on high, be near;
Daystar, in my heart appear.

Dark and cheerless is the morn
Unaccompanied by thee;
Joyless is the day's return,
Till thy mercy's beams I see;
Till they inward light impart,
Glad my eyes and warm my heart.

Visit then this soul of mine;
Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;
Fill me, Radiancy divine,
Scatter all my unbelief;
More and more thyself display,
Shining to the perfect day.


O Dayspring,
splendour of light eternal and sun of righteousness:
Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death. 
O Come, O Come Emmanuel

 

 

O Sapientia - A tale of two trees

The 'O Antiphons' are sung according to tradition, during the evening liturgy on the last days of Advent. Each one is a named attribute of The Christ, to whose coming the church looks forward with eager and in these latter days, heightened expectation

 

O Sapientia

Sung by the Domincan student brothers from Blackfriars, Oxford

When you come to a new place the whole process of settling in involves you in myriad choices, some of greater consequence than others. Choice of schools for children, choice of supermarkets to shop in - one choice having possibly some bearing on the future and difficult to change, another frankly of little significance at all and as readily changeable as the weather patterns around here seem to be, and of course throughout a multitude of good folk all willing to offer their opinions of the best choice.

The Garden of Creation also offered its new inhabitants choices, like what to call that strange beast with the black and white stripes? Or indeed the one that slunk on its belly around your feet? I guess these choices weren't of great import, except getting across the road by the Gnu crossing doesn't have quite the same ring as Zebra. Certainly this new home was so abundant in life that I guess the man may well have been a little worn out and his choice facility a little degraded, late in the day . . . more's the pity.

At the heart of the Garden were two trees - that of the Knowledge of Good and Evil and that of Life, commonly associated with the Heavenly gift of Wisdom. Two recommendations came their way, one a Life giving Positive wrapped up in a Negative, the Other a deadly negative saccharin coated and shiny in appearance. Our common ancestor did not choose well, preferring to know-it-all than to be wise - and genetic inheritance being what it is, that choice continues to be made day in and day out.

My son loves Lego - he has a huge box full of it, hundreds of pieces. From time to time he'll arrange seemingly random pieces and proudly come to show me 'Look what I have made!' As his understanding of the world has grown,  what he declares he has made bears more and more resemblance to the model in his hands. In other words without an understanding of how things should be, without being able to See something that Is but is not present to the unaided eye, the Lego pieces and his models are utterly incoherent.

So it is with Knowledge - we live in an age when we know far more than in all of history - it is not impossible that the last generation has accumulated more new knowledge than all previous generations, such is the impact of computerisation on research - and Look what we have made! What are we building - we have no 'Idea'. We have no Wisdom - we cannot See.

Knowledge is Highly Seductive, if only we Knew more, so the story goes, all will be well. The book of Proverbs famously contrasts two female figures - one, Lady Wisdom the son of the writer is exhorted to seek. The other, in turn fascinating, seductive and deadly he is consistently warned against. I do not think it mere fancy to suggest that this second tempting figure is the personification of Knowledge.

In the chaos of the modern world this rush to the alluring arms of Knowledge is all around us - we see it in the appointment of technocratic governments in Europe - in the ceaseless race to find 'Answers' to the ecological devastation we are wreaking - in the unquestioning obeissance to 'The Expert'. We look for Salvation without any clear idea of what a Saviour might look like. [cf Germany in the 1930's]

Certainly as worshippers of Knowledge we do not want God - it is little surprise that Atheists are unswervingly Reductionist in their account of reality. Philosophical Gradgrinds, they pin the students of the world to the remorseless business of the acquisition of 'the Facts' that Save!!

Yet there is no attempt to ask - What is Life all about? Indeed such philosophising is ruled out of court - we, the blind are actively counseled to be led by the blind.

In these last days of Advent we await the coming of The Saviour

Christ the Wisdom of God 

'the Kingdom does not come by your careful observation'

it is not of Knowledge

The Wisdom of God will open the eyes of the blind


O Wisdom,
 coming forth from the mouth of the Most High,
reaching from one end to the other mightily,
and sweetly ordering all things:
Come and teach us the way of prudence.  
O Come, O Come Emmanuel